


Emergence

by Chris Fitzner (chrisfitzner)



Series: Beauty and the Beast [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrisfitzner/pseuds/Chris%20Fitzner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several weeks after her escape, Belle's life is suffocating and uneasy with the tight lipped pawn broker. She just wants to rebuild what little life she had before Regina wrecked it. And what exactly is going on in this town anyway? Alternate Universe, takes place after Shades of Gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

The day was grey and chilly; Belle stared out of the kitchen window, absently stirring the soup on the stove. Several weeks had passed since her escape from the hospital ward, though she had been losing track of the days, shut up as she was, in Mr. Gold's house.  
  
On the radio, a man crooned on about endless love but Belle wasn't listening. Covering the soup and turning the heat down, she left the soup to simmer and slid onto a nearby stool. Her fingers grazed a copy of 'The Storybrooke Mirror' and a leather bound tome of world history in front of her. Her gaze wandered back to the window, a steady rain now falling. What she wouldn't give to run outside in that rain, large drops, fresh and cold on her skin. If it had been earlier in the day, she might have, discarding her shoes and relishing the damp of the lush grass between her toes. But it was already suppertime and Mr. Gold was due home at any time.  
  
His paranoia at her going outside at all was frustrating. She could appreciate his reasons, but she felt suffocated. Now that she was free, she wanted to be free; to establish her life, such as it was. Not that it had stopped her. Belle spent some of her mornings in the backyard; reading mostly, cleaning up the flower beds for the approaching frosts. Some days, Henry Mills came by to talk with her through the high iron fence that still ran along that side of the property. She felt like a fugitive though, hiding behind the bushes to talk with him, passing back and forth the library books he brought to her. Not long after her escape, Henry brought with him one of the teachers from his school, Allison Lewis, who taught art and music part time. She and Belle had hit it off, and spent hours chatting on Allison's days off. Belle was certain that Mr. Gold knew what she was up to, and she knew he'd rather she not expose herself to any chance of Regina catching her. But nothing was said and she didn't volunteer the information.  
  
Sliding off her stool, Belle retrieved spoons and bowls and began dishing up supper. Maybe he wouldn't even be home for supper; it wouldn't be the first time that she ate alone.  
  
Belle carried the bowls carefully into the small dining room. Setting them onto place mats, she retrieved the bread she'd baked the day before and set it in the middle of the table. Perhaps she shouldn't insist on making him sit down for a meal with her. The dust and clutter in the room when she arrived indicated that he ate elsewhere, if he remembered at all. But she had railroaded him into it, and he had let her.  
  
Belle wandered to the front hall and found a perch upon the bottom stair. She didn't have to be here when he arrived, but, he usually seemed better if he didn't have to hunt through the house for her. Laying her head on the solid, dark wood of the bannister, Belle supposed she didn't have to do any of these things for him. Gold had never asked her, but she had to do something.  
  
 _"I need you to stay here in the house, Belle." he told her one morning, not long after she had arrived on his doorstep._  
  
 _"Of course," she gave him a reassuring smile, attempting to lighten the mood._  
  
And so went the conversation every morning before he left, until one day, perhaps a week later she dared to ask: Why?  
  
 _His face was stony and dark eyes, unreadable._  
  
 _"I can't stay in here forever."_  
  
 _"Can't you?" he answered, leaving her in stunned silence._  
  
Since that morning, Gold had managed to articulate his reasons. Underlying the obvious and silly fear (she thought) of her re-capture, Belle sensed that he couldn't bear to lose her again.  
  
The turn of the doorknob drew Belle back from her reverie as Mr. Gold came through the door. Smiling softly, she rose to take his umbrella.  
  
"Your supper is ready, " Belle murmured as she shook the water from the umbrella, returning it to its place near the door. Wordlessly, she followed him into the dining room, taking her seat to his right.  
  
"It's not much -" she started apologetically.  
  
"It's plenty, Belle. You're not my caretaker anymore," Gold stirred his soup, looking intent on the creamy broth. "It's not necessary."  
  
Belle shrugged, slicing two pieces of bread.  
  
"I need to do something."  
  
Gold didn't answer her, finishing his meal in silence. Most evenings were like this; Belle unable to engage him in conversation and eventually giving up, frustrated. It was not unlike her early days in the dark castle. Except now, she was in love with the "master" and he knew it.  
  
Gold vanished into the house, likely to his study, leaving Belle to finish her meal alone. She poked at the chunks of potato with her spoon, absently sprinkling a layer of bread crumbs over the surface of the soup. She needed a job, or something that would take her out of the house. He wanted to keep her safe, needed to be certain that she would be; this he had told her over and over again as the days went on and her restlessness grew.  
  
The night she had showed up on his doorstep, soaked through and terrified, he had been good to her. He had never not been good to her, outside of the 'being taken for collateral' thing from her father, the dungeon and being rejected and tossed out. All right, so perhaps 'never' was stretching the truth a bit, she decided while clearing the table and starting in on the kitchen. But he could have turned her away, for the third time, and did not. Finding her dry clothes, making her tea; hospitality was not exactly Rumpelstiltskin's forte, yet he did it for her. Later, he had led her upstairs to a bright and comfortable room and put her to bed, then stayed when she begged him not to leave her, allowing her to sleep in his arms all night.  
  
Wrist deep in dish water, she watched the sky darken, from evening to dusk. Belle smiled at the memory of her first morning here, awakening to find his dark, brown eyes on her, his features seemed softer.  
  
 _"It wasn't a dream," she murmured._  
  
 _"No, dear girl, it wasn't." Gold buried his face in the wild tangle of her hair, softly kissing her head, the tip of her ear, nuzzling her neck. She smiled, closing her eyes, relishing the moment, so long in coming. He drew her to him, holding her tightly; she felt herself drifting, utterly relaxed, falling back asleep._  
  
 _She jolted awake minutes later, eyes round with fear. Gold stroked her hair in an attempt to soothe her._  
  
 _"What is it?"_  
  
 _"I ran away." she told him, remembering the night before. "They'll be coming - where am I going to go?" panic crept into her voice._  
  
 _"Hush now," his lips warm against her forehead. "I'll protect you."_  
  
 _"You will? Promise?" she whispered._  
  
 _"You have my word."_  
  
And so far, he had kept his word even though Belle was feeling suffocated under his idea of 'protecting' her. He had asked so little of her, unusual for a man who lived for the art of the deal and what others could do for him rather than what he could do for them. But there had to be a better way than for her to remain a shut in. How could she convince him that everything would be all right?


	2. Two

Sunday morning was brilliant blue sky and warm autumn sunshine, the complete opposite of the day before; Belle reveled in it, soaking up the heat as she chatted with Henry and Allison. She was relieved for their company, as Mr. Gold had been as aloof as ever and it was a joy to spend time with people who were interested in her for a change.  
  
Henry slipped a small stack of paperbacks through the bars of the fence into Belle's waiting hands.  
  
"This was all I could get you this week," he sounded apologetic.  
  
"Oh, this is great, "she assured him, scanning the titles. Fantasy novels, including The Neverending Story, which she had already read. "I really appreciate it, Henry."  
  
"Ms. Blanchard picked them out." he admitted. "Have you read them before?"  
  
"Oh, yes," noticing Henry's disappointment from the corner of her eye; she ran her fingers over the worn cover of A Wrinkle in Time. "But to read them again - it will be like visiting with old friends."  
  
Henry grinned and packed his back with the books Belle had already finished.  
  
"I'd better go. See you later, Belle, Ms. Lewis." and he hurried off, likely before Madam Mayor had reason to come looking for him. That would certainly complicate matters if she were to find him here.  
  
"Things okay, Belle?" Allison asked, her deep blue eyes cloudy with concern. She had not said much while Henry was there but Belle knew she had been studying her.  
  
"Oh, the same as ever," Belle shrugged, knowing Allison would know she meant Mr. Gold.  
  
"Still playing Mr. Aloof, is he?"  
  
"Yes. And no - " Belle struggled to find the right words. "There are moments when he is who I remember. And then the rest," she signed. "He is who we all know. When he turned me away, he accused me of being in on a plot with Regina."  
  
Allison nodded, her mouth set in a firm line. Belle had told Allison her story, even going back to Fairytale Land, mostly because she seemed to remember it as well.. At the very least, that this town of Storybrooke was wrong, the product of Regina's curse, Henry had told them. 'Curiouser and curiouser' had been Allison's only words, said with a smirk. Belle's very own Alice in Wonderland.  
  
Belle was mostly worried that Mr. Gold still believed her to be the mayor's paw and not "his Belle" at all.  
  
"Maybe you need to press the issues more. You're not exactly what I'd call 'assertive'. "  
  
Belle said nothing, tucking a stray brown curl behind her ear. She wasn't sure what 'asserting herself' might entail. Maybe pinning him onto the couch and making him acknowledge her? Her face felt warm, a blush creeping into her cheeks.  
  
"Have you given any thought to where you might like to work?" Allison broke into her thoughts, changing the subject.  
  
"Not.. really. I would love to go back to the school but - that's not very likely."  
  
"You should check with the public library. There might be an evening spot open."  
  
"I loved it there," Belle smiled sadly. "But it's unlikely he is ever going to let me out and honestly," she dropped her voice to a whisper. "I'm afraid to go out alone."  
  
"Don't let him scare you into staying indoors." Allison scolded. "He can't keep you shut away forever, like a piece in his collection."  
  
Belle studied her fingernails, considering Allison's words. Memories of the great room, filled with Rumpelstiltskin's collection, flooded her mind. Perhaps she was just another tea cup to him; chipped, cherished and mostly left to collect dust.  
  
Allison said her good-byes though Belle could not remember exactly what she had said or if she'd even responded. Sighing, she made her way back into the house before Mr. Gold could come looking for her.  
  


* * *

  
  
The house was quiet as she crept through the kitchen, slipping her shoes off and padding down the hallway in her socks, heading for the den. It was still early, hardly ten o'clock, and Gold, she hoped, was still upstairs.'  
  
Slipping into the den, Belle went over to a small bookcase in the corner, stashing the novels on the bottom shelf. It was not that Mr. Gold was unaware that she would sneak outside or had a book supplier, but she tried to keep her defiance out of his face.  
  
"Good morning, Belle."  
  
She started at his quiet greeting, slowly turned around, finding him at his desk on the other side of the room.  
  
"Good morning," she murmured, climbing onto the over sized, ungodly ugly couch.  
  
"How is the weather this morning?" he asked, his voice neutral.  
  
"Beautiful." Belle smiled.  
  
"And your.. 'contraband', safely stowed?" it was hard for her to miss the amusement in his eyes.  
  
"It's only some books, " she mumbled, blushing. "I've already read most of yours."  
  
"You should've paced yourself, Belle," Gold admonished, looking back at his ledgers.  
  
"Because you're never going to let me out on my own. I may as well have stayed in the hospital." her voice bitter, Gold's head snapped up but his dark look went ignored. Belle swatted a toss pillow to the floor. "And sometimes - you seem angry that I'm here."  
  
"I'm not angry, Belle. I'm terrified." he admitted. "Being at Regina's mercy is really better than staying with me?" he rose from his desk in agitation, advancing on her.  
  
"Well," she hesitated, trying to ease his rising anger. She hadn't realized he would be quite so touchy about it . "The food is better here."  
  
The anger in his face drained as quickly as it had come. Gold gently pushed her feet over, making room for himself. He seemed pensive and Belle thought she detected a flicker of sadness. Had she hurt his feelings? Whoops.  
  
"All right," she conceded. "I do prefer this jail to the previous one. But - you can't keep me in here forever."  
  
 _And stop treating me like your unwelcome house guest_ , she wanted to add.  
  
"Want to bet?"  
  
"Then you _shouldn't_ keep me in here forever." Belle corrected, sitting up.  
  
"Why not?" his dark eyes intense, searching hers. He was really serious, she realized. She covered his hand with hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.  
  
"Because I am not a piece in your collection, Rumpelstiltskin," she said as gently as she could, using Allison's words from earlier. "I know you're worried but you cannot just - lock me away. You need to trust me."  
  
Gold stared at his lap, at their hands. Lightly, he ran his thumb over her skin and she repressed a shiver.  
  
"I - " he hesitated. "need to make certain you will be safe."  
  
"And have you done anything to make certain of that? Or did you just think I would be content to stay in this house forever?"  
  
He said nothing, going back to his desk to retrieve his ledger. Belle grabbed a nearby book to distract herself from her disappointment.  
  
"If you love something, set it free." she hugged the book to her chest in an effort to soothe the heartache. Without another word, he left the room. "Set me free." she whispered to no one.


	3. Three

The days had grown cooler though the weather was still calm. Belle folded her clothes slowly, dragging out the chore to kill more time. The few days that had passed since her last discussion with Mr. Gold were blurring together and she was not certain what day it even was.  
  
Sitting down on the bed, absently smoothing the sweaters that were neatly folded next to her, Belle scanned the contents of her small wardrobe, all there on the bed. Some of the articles had come from Allison, some from the teachers at the school; gratitude swelled in her chest and she wished that she could thank them in person. Soon, Belle hoped, she would be able to explore and investigate for herself any changes in the town, what few she had heard of. The arrival, earlier that year, of an Emma Swan, from Boston, seemed to be the biggest change on Henry's radar. People didn't come to Storybrooke, ever, he had told her. And no one could leave either. Belle thought that just a little over the top, but given her experiences with the mayor, she could not discredit Henry either. Besides, she'd never tried to leave herself, so how would she know?  
  
Carefully placing the sweaters in the dresser, Belle shook her head in disbelief as she remembered all that she had learned. The Swan woman was evidently Henry's mother, _birth_ mother. While it certainly didn't surprise her that Henry was not Regina's natural child, Belle couldn't remember when she had adopted him. He simply always was in Belle's memory. She was beginning to feel wary of her memories, nothing was very clear until she had kissed Mr. Gold; Rumpelstiltskin.

Outside her open window, fat black birds hopped in the branches, tweeting and singing happily. She lost herself in the song for a moment, her train of thought temporarily derailed. Small things, like bird song, were the things she missed most in the hospital. At least, she missed them when she was lucid enough to know they were missing. A hazy memory of walking to the toll bridge with Graham surfaced, and her sense of peace evaporated. Allison had told her a couple of weeks ago of his death. Some bullshit about his heart that Belle didn't believe for a second. Not with this business of dark curses and evil queens going on. Their relationship had been brief, hardly worth thinking of at all (thanks to Regina); but they had always been friends. Or so her memory told her. She mourned her friend; his warm manner and easy smile. She wondered if he was buried in the town cemetery or in the little one closer to the forest.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts?" his soft voice interrupted. "I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
Belle smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat back down on the bed, hugging herself.  
  
"Just - processing." she finally answered. Gold crossed the room, his cane loud upon the wood floor. He hesitated a moment before sitting down.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"Processing. You know," she stammered, unsure of how to articulate her feelings. "Being here.. the new sheriff.. a dark curse. It's kind of overwhelming."  
  
"Henry shouldn't have told you about the curse." Gold's voice was flat.  
  
"So it's absolutely true?" she was incredulous. "I knew something funny was going on, back before - "she waved her hand. "But I had no way of reconciling all of those memories with those of life here." she shivered, remembering the hospital ward. Gold slipped his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together.  
  
"The dark curse is real and I created it. Any memories of your childhood and growing up here in Storybrooke, those are not real."  
  
Belle sat frozen, staring at Gold. She could hardly believe what she was hearing; that he had created this curse that had brought them here. Of course, she should have believed it. This man was Rumpelstiltskin, the Dark One, the most powerful magician in all the realms. But what would be the purpose of such a spell?  
  
"Henry said the curse brought everyone here. Taking their memories and their happy endings. Why would you create such a thing?"  
  
Gold flinched at the disdain in her eyes, he squeezed her fingers gently.  
  
"It was the only way to find my son; to follow him to the land without magic."  
  
"And _have_ you found your son, Rumpel? Was allowing Regina to destroy the happiness of the kingdoms worth it?"  
  
He stared at her for what seemed like a long time, his dark eyes unreadable, masking his thoughts.  
  
"No," he finally replied. He released her hand and made to leave the room.  
  
"I've made an appointment for you to speak with Dr. Hopper. We'll leave in half an hour."  
  
"Dr. Hopper? Archie?"  
  
"If he doesn't find anything wrong with you," he swept a strand of her hair away from her face. "Then perhaps it'll be possible for you to go out."  
  
He left the room then, leaving her stunned and uneasy; at least he was trying. Taking a deep breath, she busied herself with choosing a respectable outfit for the excursion and blocking his ambiguous answer from her mind.

 

* * *

  
  
An hour and a half later, Belle was in Dr. Archie Hopper's small but comfortable office, perched on the couch across from the therapist. Her file from the hospital lay open on the table between them and a yellow pad of paper propped on his knee where he would periodically jot notes. They had been over all of her feelings, sometimes twice; how was she feeling, what were her fears, the night she escaped from the hospital. She had hoped that they were nearly done but Dr. Hopper just kept talking and Belle was growing more irritated.  
  
"And why did you go to Mr. Gold, Belle? I understand that you have family here; a father and two sisters. Why not go to them?"  
  
Belle took in Dr. Hopper's appearance as she considered her response. His worn but nice jacket, neatly pressed pants and a mismatched tie. Fashion sense, thy name was not Archie Hopper.  
  
"My father committed me to that place to begin with. Why would I go to him?" she was very matter-of-fact. It was very simple really, and in the file who sent her to that place. Was this really a necessary question? Telling Archie anything about her feelings for Rumpelstiltskin and how somehow she knew he would protect her; well, she didn't want another all expenses paid trip to the loony bin.  
  
"Because he is family?" Archie suggested.  
  
"Family doesn't lock each other up and throw away the key. Not in my book, anyway."  
  
She watched blue birds hop around outside the window while Archie took another moment to record her response. Perhaps her new hobby could be bird watching.  
  
"And what is your relationship to Mr. Gold?"  
  
She blinked. "What does that have to do with determining my sanity?" she snapped, Archie looking taken aback. He let it slide.  
  
"He was - is my - "she thought a moment. "Benefactor."  
  
Archie seemed to chew over that for a few moments while Belle tapped her foot impatiently. Fortunately, it seemed he was going to change track.  
  
"And what is your wish, for yourself, at the present time?"  
  
This was a question Belle was willing to answer.  
  
"I want to be part of the community again. I know you don't remember me, but I used to live here. A quiet life with books, family and a few friends. And I want that again."  
  
"Might that not include reconciling with your father?" Archie asked gently, trying again, but Belle only shrugged, her attention straying back to the window. "Well, Ms. Reading," he began, finishing his notes and glancing over them. "You seem rational to me, if not a little unreasonable. You are nothing like they say you were." Archie tapped the open file and they both stood. "Would you mind coming in again in a few days for a re-evaluation?"  
  
"With pleasure," she replied, shaking his offered hand and smiling genuinely for the first time during the session.  
  
"Shall I see you out?"  
  
Belle smiled again, following the doctor downstairs and out to the street where Mr. Gold was waiting.  
  
"Here's your charge, Mr. Gold." Archie was trying awkward pleasantry that Belle knew wouldn't go far with him. "I'd like to see her again at the end of the week."  
  
"Certainly, doctor. Thank you." Gold replied stiffly as Archie disappeared back into the building. He gestured for her to follow him and they walked slowly, in companionable silence, through downtown Storybrooke. Belle took in the town as they went, humming softly to herself. Everything was as she remembered it and anything she had not remembered gave her a strong sense of _deja vu_. Henry had been right; this place really never changed. By the time they had passed Granny's, Belle was smiling and humming. Her good mood was a sharp contrast to Gold's more sober, almost sullen one. She couldn't help herself, she was just thrilled to be _outside_! _Moving freely_ and not feeling guilty _at all_ about it; she stopped just short of skipping.  
  
"Your appointment went well, I take it?"  
  
Belle looked up from the pumpkin display she had been admiring.  
  
"Oh. Yes, I suppose it did."  
  
"You _suppose_?" Gold raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, he is a nosy little insect." she muttered. Gold suppressed what sounded like a snort and smiled thinly.  
  
"Belle!" a breathless Allison called, running up to them from the direction of the school, her skirts flying around her. "Hey! He airing you out today? Afternoon, Mr. Gold, may I speak with you a moment?"  
  
Belle blinked; what kind of business could Allison have with Mr. Gold? Everyone in town seemed to make the mistake of dealing with him, just as they had with Rumpelstiltskin. Allison and Gold moved a few feet away, speaking low and just out of Belle's ear shot. It made her uneasy and she shivered; the breeze chilly in spite of the sunshine.  
  
"A change in plans, Belle," Mr. Gold announced, returning to her side. "Miss Lewis will show you back home. I have some - business at the shop."  
  
She frowned, pulling her jacket around her tightly. He bid them a good afternoon and headed off in the direction of the pawn shop.  
  
"Well, come on then, Belle." Allison was humming with nervous energy. "Lot's to do before he's done at the shop!" she winked and took off down Main Street with Belle running after her, trying to keep up.  
  



	4. Four

A sane woman; that is what Dr. Hopper had determined. Not exactly headline news, but Belle needed that professional opinion and now she had it. Her inner self puffed out her chest with pride and marched around.

"Sorry I'm late." Allison's voice came from behind, startling her.

"No worries." Belle took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "I could have walked back on my own, you know."

Allison snorted. "Yes, but would you have Mr. Gold more squirrely than usual?" with a flourish, Allison offered Belle her arm. "So? What's the good word? "

"Why, thank you." Belle grinned, accepting her friend's offer and they began to stroll leisurely down the street.

"The verdict is?" Allison urged.

"Sane." Belle's voice was exultant. "How could it possibly be anything else?"

"You never know who is in Regina's pocket."

"No kidding." she said darkly. Archie had given her the opportunity to see the hospital record during their session; "a dangerous, juvenile delinquent" it had said, "with no regard for the well-being of herself and others". Four recorded suicide attempts and years of intense therapy she had never actually had. It had made no mention of her previous work with Dr. Hopper. As far as the record was concerned, Belle had spent most of her life in one mental ward or another. She could not believe that Archie would release her, given what they had read. But there had been kindness in his eyes, tinged with discomfort.

"I am clearing this record because - there's a part of me that cannot believe that this -" he slipped the folder into the recycling bin. "- is you. I can't rationalize it; at best, talking to you is _deja vu_."

Belle gazed at Halloween displays but took little in, lost in the memory of the earlier meeting. What sort of medical professional would fabricate such lies? Allison had been right; how could one know for certain who was in the employ of the mayor. They passed through town in silence, Belle hardly noticing when Allison led her up the walk way into Granny's Diner.

"Come back to earth, sleeping beauty." Allison waved her hand in front of her eyes as Belle came to attention in time to step into the diner without looking like a klutz. She led Belle to a booth and slid in, signaling to the waitress.

Belle half smiled at the scandalously clad young woman, Ruby, and tuned out while Allison made small talk and ordered beverages. Same colours, muted; white table tops, long counter, very homey. It could have been just the other day, the last time she had been here with Mary Margaret for supper, before the pendant and Mr. Gold. Nothing had changed here. Nothing had really changed anywhere. According to Henry, nothing ever did; all a part of the curse. Belle frowned; was that why Regina had contrived to lock her away? Because somehow, through her association with Mr. Gold, she had begun to change, to remember? The curse had held her until then, when she first kissed Mr. Gold; that was when everything had become clearer.

It likely still held her, in a way. Belle couldn't remember everything about the fairy tale world she had learned about, most of that life was a blur. The only parts she could recall with any clarity involved Rumpelstiltskin. Henry had said that the dark curse had erased memories and taken away all the happy endings. Did this mean that Rumpelstiltskin was _her_ happy ending? How did that explain Allison's awareness of the curse?

Ruby had returned with two mugs of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream. Allison held her mug out to Belle. "A toast! To you being one hundred percent less crazy!"

Belle smiled clinked mugs with her friend. Taking a sip, she closed her eyes, relishing the warmth of the drink

"The other day," she began softly. "When you walked me home? Any idea what _she_ wanted?"

Allison swirled her finger through the whipped cream.

"I don't really know." she popped her finger into her mouth, cleaning it of the fluff. "To rile up Mr. Gold, I imagine. I had seen her heading to the shop and I came looking for you. I didn't hang around to give her an interview."

Belle took another sip, watching townsfolk hurry past the windows, going about their day. How could none of these people remember her? Even Mary Margaret, who had been the closest thing she'd had to a best friend, had looked at her without recognition. Was that part of Regina's magic? To make someone disappear and erase their existence; it smacked of totalitarianism to Belle.

"You seem well acquainted with Mr. Gold."

Allison was quiet, looking up at Belle through long lashes. "I do the occasional errand for him."

"You work for him?"

"I can't survive on a part time salary." Allison sounded defensive. "The work is easy and he pays well."

Belle knocked a sugar packet around with her fingers.

"So - you're like a goon?" she asked, remembering a term from a crime novel she had read recently.

"Not exactly," Allison laughed heartily. "But he's a powerful man, even here. Eyes and ears everywhere." she knocked back the rest of her hot chocolate. "You were a big ace up her sleeve, in regards to Gold. What kind of leverage will she have with him now?"

"But he thought I had died. How did that help her?"

"When the time came, when she needed something big and he refused, thinking she had nothing that he wants? Well, then she would have produced you."

Belle drained her own mug, licking her lips. She felt self-conscious knowing that she could have been collateral in a deal that he would not refuse.

"I honestly didn't realize that I mattered that much."

"Oh, you do." Allison counted out the change, leaving it with the bills on the table. "And she was probably trying to gain some legal hold over you to get you away from him, likely as an advocate for your father."

Belle scowled at the mention of her father, buttoning up her jacket and following Allison outside.

"But clearly it's not working. I'm not sure how she thought scaring him into giving you up would work. It's not like he has a reputation of playing by the rules."

"Unless it suits him."

"Precisely." Allison re-offered her arm. "Now, come on. We'll take the scenic route home and ogle everyone's decorations."

Uneasy with her thoughts, Belle gladly accepted Allison's arm and welcomed the gossip and chatter that her friend amply provided.

* * *

The sun hung low in the sky when Allison deposited Belle at Gold's front door. She cheerfully took her leave and Belle let herself in, the silence of the house enveloping her, deafening after her friend's constant chatter.

Gold's dark coat was draped over the bannister and she wandered to the study, finding him seated on the couch, engrossed in the newspaper.

"I'm home." she murmured, sitting next to him.

"Hello," he folded the paper, neat and crisp, and let it flutter to the floor. "What's the word?"

With a smile, Belle related to him the details of her appointment, watching his face fall as she finished.

"I thought you would be pleased," she pouted. "had _hoped_ anyway."

He ran his fingers through her hair, now long, gently fingering the soft curls. His thumb lightly traced her jaw; Belle was still, watching his face, a faraway look in his eyes.

"One less thing to worry about?" she offered.

"Or a dozen more, with all the trouble you could get into." he smiled faintly.

"Are you teasing me?"

"On the contrary; I am very serious."

Belle laid her head upon his shoulder, a frown creasing her brow. Gold's lips were soft upon her forehead, breath warm against her skin. He tilted her face to his and their lips met, the kiss long and searching; warmth spread through her belly, Belle knotted her fingers in his hair, pulling him in tightly. He broke away first.

"You're trying to distract me." she sighed, a little frustrated.

"Did it work?"

"No," she smirked, smoothing his hair. "Now that I have Dr. Hopper's okay, I want to work."

"Belle," he sighed, leaning back into the couch. "that isn't necessary. I can take care of you. I _will_."

"But I need to be out there," she gestured to a wall, indicating the town outside. "I lived among these people once, and keeping me in here - that isn't going to help me re-integrate." Belle grabbed his hand, pressing it to her cheek. "I _need_ this, love."

"Can't you do that without a job? If you're here, I'll know where you're at; that you're safe."

"If I'm working," she persisted. "you would know exactly where I'm at, instead of wandering around town like a hobo or sitting in Granny's all day."

He seemed to consider her words and hope blossomed in her chest.

"Who's to say that Regina won't try to get at me here on the sly? At work there would be witnesses."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"Allison suggested that the mayor needed some sort of leverage against you; something to tempt you into a deal in the future."

"Ms. Lewis talks too much." he snapped, but he did not refute the suggestion.

"And what would _they_ say?" Belle jerked her thumb at the window, again referring to the town. "You could support a relative or a wife, but I'm nothing to you."

"It's good that I don't operate based on town approval then," Gold caressed her cheek. "You're everything."

Belle felt the wind rush out of her. Did he say that to knock her off track or did he truly mean it?

"I meant it." he answered, returning to the paper.

"Are you reading my mind?" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "So, I will start looking tomorrow."

"Stubborn girl." Gold grumbled from behind the business section.

"Always." she smiled, grabbing a book from the shelf and diving in.


	5. Five

The morning had not gone as she had hoped; whatever optimism Belle had mustered for her job search that day had all but evaporated, leaving her discouraged and cranky, seated on a bench in a small park. She had considered going by the pawn shop to share her lack of progress with Mr. Gold but quickly discarded the thought; though he had been encouraging this morning, in his own way, Belle knew she wouldn't be able to handle the relief he would likely feel that she hadn't found anything.

Dead leaves tumbled around in breeze and the smell of autumnal rot hung in the air. People passed by her on their way to and from lunch but Belle stared at her shoes, pretending to be interested in the small silver buckles; she scuffed them on the pavement, crunching the leaves beneath her feet.

The pharmacist, the grocer and a café all turned her away with varying degrees of discomfort. Belle had entered every establishment with her brightest smile; perhaps it had made her look deranged.

" _Pardon me, sir,_ _"_ _she asked the fat, balding grocer._ _"are you looking to hire anyone?"_

" _Oh, uh," he leaned back against the counter, stuffing his puffy hands into his apron pockets; the man reminded her of a distended marshmallow_. _"What was your name, dear?"_

" _Belle Reading."_ _She squeaked, her smile fading as doubt crept in._

" _Well, Ms. Reading, as you can see, we are over staffed right now."_

_Belle glanced around the cramped store, boxes piled in every narrow aisle, merchandise waiting to be shelved._

" _You are?" she blinked in confusion. Mr. Grocer nodded vigorously, as though it would help emphasize his point. "All right, thank you anyway."_

And so it had continued with every place she went. The owner of the café actually had the nerve to tell her _why_ they couldn't afford to have the trouble that hiring Belle may have brought.

" _Is it because –" Belle pursed her lips and worry creased her brow. "of where I came from?"_

" _I just can't afford to get stuck between the Mayor and Mr. Gold; that_ _ **is**_ _who you're staying with? With Mr. Gold? I'm sorry, honey."_

Belle hadn't even been able to manage a smile for the woman after that and left the café without another word. She had stood in front of a clothing store for a few minutes after that, debating on whether or not to go in, her old 'voice of reason' she had unoriginally called ' _other Belle_ ' resurfacing.

' _Are you going to let people black ball you because of whom you're staying with?'_ the 'other' Belle was puffing up her chest, about to go Big Bad Wolf on her more timid counterpart.

"There's no 'letting' people do anything. I can't really control what someone is willing or unwilling to do."

The 'other' Belle remained quiet, but glowered in a corner of her mind, ready to pipe up at the next perceived injustice. Changing her mind about looking for work at the clothing store, Belle continued down the sidewalk until she had ended up at the bench she had been sitting on for a while.

The sound of leaves being crunched under foot drew Belle's attention to an approaching stranger. She vaguely knew of this slender, stunning blonde, having heard of her from Henry but Belle had not been fully prepared for Emma Swan; Belle looked up and was immediately lost in the incredible blueness of her eyes.

"I'm Sheriff Swan," the daughter of Snow White said, bypassing a hello.

"Hello, sheriff." Belle answered shyly, pulling her gaze away from Emma's eyes before she could be considered creepy. She had read Henry's book and seen the illustrations of Snow and her prince; what side of the family could that amazing blonde hair have come from?

"You're Belle? Mr. Gold's girl?"

Belle frowned, this woman was very blunt; 'Mr. Gold's girl' indeed.

"I am Belle, yes." She said, cautious. Why did she feel as if she needed to defend herself? This Emma Swan had a very confrontational demeanor.

"Nice to meet you; does he know you're out here?"

"Mr. Gold? Not that I am required to report my every move to him, but _yes_ he knows I'm out here." She fidgeted on the bench then hopped to her feet, ready to make her move and leave this gruff sheriff behind. "Please, excuse me, Ms. Swan? I have an appointment and I don't want to be late. It was so lovely to finally meet you." She grabbed Emma's hand and squeezed it earnestly and then hurried away from the park, not looking back to see which direction the sheriff would go.

The town square opened up and the public library stood before her, a substantial looking building made of brick but still managing to seem modest and inviting; Belle's feet had carried her there without her having known it. She dashed across the square, trampling dead plants in fallow beds and flew up the steps to the front doors, feeling for the first time an overwhelming sense of homecoming. At this hour, on a weekday, the library was empty of patrons; and librarians as far as she could tell. Everything was as she remembered it though; the scent of books old and new filled her nose and the whisper of the ventilation system soothed her. Belle took her time in approaching the circulation desk, wandering about as though in a trance, re-acquainting herself with the books and saying hello to her favourites; her old friends.

In a corner, opposite the entrance, sat the circulation desk; small, rickety and made of old wood, it was little more than a glorified reception desk. Behind that desk, which was festooned with posters and multicoloured children's drawings, sat Father Time reading what seemed to be a young adult novel with an apple on the cover.

It wasn't actually Father Time of course, but the snowy whiteness of his wispy hair and bear, wrinkled face small behind large, round spectacles made Belle think of him.

"Excuse me, sir." She began, approaching the desk. Father Time didn't look up, still engrossed in his novel or perhaps he just hadn't heard her; Belle leaned over the desk. "Excuse me, _sir_?"

Father Time's faded blue eyes finally met hers and slowly, as if in a dream, he marked his place with a gnarled finger and set the book down in his lap. "Yes, miss? Is there something I can help you find?"

"I'm looking for work." Belle smiled brightly but Father Time looked at her blankly. "Are you hiring?" she asked again, raising her voice and enunciating clearly. His eyes came alive with understanding once he actually knew what she had said.

"Oh, I hadn't given it much thought. This isn't a very busy place through the daytime." He explained patiently.

"Well, thank you for your time." Belle's smile faded and her heart sank to her feet.

"I didn't say 'no' yet, young miss." The old man barked, leaning forward and inches from her face; his breath reeked of garlic. "I meant to say that I could use an afternoon girl; I'm too old to _not_ have an afternoon nap."

"You would hire me?" Belle's voice going up an octave with surprise; though she had hoped for it, after the experiences of the morning she was amazed to not hear a refusal.

"Are you simple?" Father Time choked on a laugh. "You _did_ come in here looking for a job, right?"

Belle fiddled with the story time pamphlets on the counter. "Of course I did – it's just that – this morning didn't go so well, you see. I live with.." she took a quick breath, steeling herself for the rejection that would inevitably follow. "I live with Mr. Gold and the others didn't want to bring trouble down on them from him or the mayor." She made herself stop fidgeting and met his steady gaze.

"I know who you are, miss. Do you think I give two shits about Mayor Mills or Mr. Gold? Can you start tomorrow?"

Belle beamed at Father Time and grabbed his free hand to shake it. "Yes, absolutely! Thank you, sir!"

His wrinkled face split open with a smile of his own and he patted her hand softly. "The name is Simon and you're welcome, Belle. I'll see you at twelve thirty tomorrow."

* * *

Her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, as though she were trying to squeeze the fear out through her pores. Belle stood, frozen, near the hall window, watching the lightning flash. The wood of the old house groaned and creaked in the gale, like ancient bones protesting overuse. Storms like this weren't common, she remembered, but the couple that had swept through since her escape reminded her too much of that night; the fear and uncertainty. Reliving those hours was not at the top of her to-do list.

The grandfather clock downstairs began to chime; signaling the witching hour and Belle shivered. Gold had turned in some time ago, before the storm had reached its present fury. She had tried to turn in early, to get a good night's rest before her first shift at the library but the weather had had other ideas.

Beyond the creaking and the moaning from the wind and the house, it was still; Belle half expected a ghost to pass nonchalantly through the walls. She had to stop reading ghost stories before bed.

She inhaled deeply, an attempt to calm the fluttering in her chest. Belle focused on the faint pattern of climbing roses on her worn white robe, the vines winding down the front, along her thighs and ending with the hem at her knees. It had been hers before the hospital and she had no idea how he had procured it for her; a bit of comfort from a former life. Deciding to go back to bed, Belle padded down the hallway to her room, the plush runner felt heavenly on her bare feet. She paused in front of an antique vase, admiring the colour and design. Even in a land without magic, Rumpelstiltskin had a taste for the old and out-of-the-ordinary.

"Except for me," mumbled Belle. She didn't understand how their affection had formed, the events that preceded her arrival at his estate; her life before the dark castle was still murky, lost in the mire of the curse. All she knew was that she had grown to love him and that she believed he felt the same. Perhaps not everything had to make sense.

The door behind her creaked loudly and Belle could feel her spirit leap from her skin and latch onto the ceiling like a frightened cartoon cat.

"Belle?"

She whirled around at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide and wild.

"I startled you again."

She made no reply, occupied with persuading her heart to slide back into its proper place in her chest.

"What are you doing still up?" his arms cautiously wrapped around her, she sighed into the dark, soft fabric of his housecoat.

"Is it the storm?" he murmured into her hair, she gave a half laugh and nodded, embarrassed. "It's only the wind, Belle; it won't hurt you, I promise." he teased gently.

He guided her into his room and shut the door behind them. The din of the storm immediately subsided to a dull roar and the creaking faded. Belle wondered, momentarily, if she had gone deaf. She glanced around, but was too wound up to notice much beyond the dark heavy drapes and the comfortable looking bed.

"I have not cared for storms since -" she trailed off. Gold raised an eyebrow as if to say _'Go on?'_

"It's nothing. I was reading ghost stories earlier." she lied but he looked skeptical and waited for her to tell him the truth. She couldn't bring herself to speak while meeting his gaze; Belle looked down to talk to her toes instead. "Since the night you threw me out; seems to be a bad habit of yours." His body was tense and the arm around her waist tightened but she continued. "The stormy nights in the asylum - the corridor echoed with the wails of some of the inmates, they were frightened and confused; the memories aren't much clearer because of the medications, but the wind reminds me of them."

"Perhaps you will sleep better in here." he said after a moment, not responding to her accusation. " I regret that I have not .. 'insulated' your room as I ought to."

Belle moved to the bed, removing the robe covering her pajamas before slipping under the covers. "You don't mind?"

"No," he drew the quilt up to her chin. "unless you have an ulterior motive."

Belle's cheeks flooded with colour and he chuckled, switching off the bedside lamp. "Would that have been such a bad thing?" she ventured, half-jokingly, emboldened by the darkness.

"Perhaps not." he reached out for her, patting her cheek. "But not tonight."

Belle stared at the ceiling, willing the blush to drain from her cheeks. After a few minutes she inched closer to his warmth and curled up against him, drifting peacefully to sleep.


	6. Six

"And back here's the lunch room and the public restroom is around the corner." Simon pointed down the hallway. "Not much else to see; any questions?"

"No, not right now." Belle pasted a smile on her face and shook her head. This library had been a second home to her, there wasn't a nook or cranny she didn't know about; or so she assumed.

"I'll finish out the week working with you. Training, you could call it." he explained as he led Belle back to the circulation desk. Simon moved quickly, quite sprightly for someone of his years and Belle tried to keep up. Hopping onto the stool, Simon resumed his place, perched high enough to be able to survey a good deal of the library. "When there are actually patrons here, I'll show you how to check the books out, but for now," he pointed a gnarled finger at a shelving cart piled high with returned books. "Work on re-shelving and get acquainted with the stacks."

"Right. Got it." Belle nodded her head vigorously, wanting to be seen as a quick learner, but Simon had already moved on to the book he had been reading the day before; apparently, her audience was over.

Pushing the squeaky cart toward the back reference section, Belle read the various posters and fliers taped to the ends of bookcases. Advertisements for flea markets and hay rides, pumpkin patches and fresh cider; all the hallmarks of the season. A bright orange paper screamed for her attention, the childish Halloween script, in black, called one and all to a 'spooktacular' gala for the whole family, courtesy of the town of Storybrooke. This must have taken the place of the silly carnival that the school used to host; Allison had mentioned that they no longer held that event. Belle considered, for a moment, asking Mr. Gold if he minded her going and perhaps even attending with her; or she could go with Allison, they were sure to have a lot of fun. But the last Halloween that Belle could recall had ended very poorly for her. Perhaps she would just order in and curl up with a stack of books.

_"It's you," she had whispered, smiling. "your skin, it's - normal."_

_"No, Belle," his voice was strained. "You have to go."_

_"I don't understand, Rumple_ _–"_

_"Enough! Stop tormenting me," he snarled, his face was inches from hers. "That she-devil put you up to this, didn't she? She_ _**knows** _ _."_

_"Are you nuts? I thought you might love me as I still do you!" Belle cried._

_"Stop saying that!" he roared, shaking her by her shoulders. "Get out," he hissed, releasing her; determined not to let him see her cry, Belle hurried to the door._

_"You're still a coward, Rumplestiltskin. Some things will never change."_

His words from earlier in that evening, before he had rejected her, haunted her still: _Is it really you?_ And later deciding that she was a piece in some larger game of Regina's, driving her away. The shouting and the tears and the storm; oh, how she hated storms! Belle rattled slowly up and down the aisles, carefully returning the books to their proper places. Did he believe her now or was he still trying to deduce if she was "his Belle" or the pawn being sent to undermine him. It made her heart ache to think that he might not trust her. But he did, Belle thought, he _must_. He was just careful, unused to being loved, paranoid. Belle chuckled softly; _now_ who was paranoid?

The afternoon passed swiftly as Simon kept her busy with other carts of returned items and straightening the book displays near the entrance. Patrons began to trickle in when four o'clock approached; people in their work clothes drifting in for a novel or a movie to rent. School children bounced in, some with their parents, others with their friends. Belle cringed at the sudden increase in the noise level; she turned from the recommended reading table just as Henry entered, followed by his mother.

"Hey, Belle!"

"Hello, Henry." She answered uneasily, aware of Regina's cold eyes on her. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

"Nope, I probably know this library better than you do." His tone was very matter-of-fact. Belle couldn't help an indulgent smile as Henry headed off to the reference section. Looking back at Regina's sour face, her smile evaporated.

"Miss Reading." Regina acknowledged.

"Mayor Mills." Belle tried to keep her tone cordial and to not meet Regina's gaze for too long. Belle still had nightmares of the hospital and those almost black eyes staring at her from the observation 'window'.

"I'm surprised to find you here. I was given to understand that you were quite unwell and not up to – public interaction."

"Oh, were you now?" her heart thumped harder and her hands were cool and clammy; Belle hated confrontation.

"Yes, just the other day Mr. Gold assured me that it was necessary for you to remain with him. And for a young lady such as yourself -"

Belle raised an eyebrow.

"-having gone through what you have –"

Her entire face felt tight and Belle realized she was clenching her jaw.

"I am _so very_ astonished to find you here. Are you working?"

Belle and her inner self, the 'other' Belle, herself in miniature, slowly counted to ten before answering and before her teeth were ground into calcium powder.

"Yes." She managed. "it is my first day."

Regina's red lips formed an 'o' of concern and Belle thought for a moment that Regina might try to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

" _Just try it, bitch."_ The 'other' Belle snarled; she was crouched and ready to pounce.

"Is that wise, Belle? I don't mean to insinuate that you are not mentally fit – but the children." Regina cast a worried glance toward the kids' corner. Belle began to count: _one.. two.._

"Do you think you're _safe_ to be around them?"

_Three.. four.. five .._

"Perhaps I should speak with your supervisor."

Glancing around to make sure no one was too close, Belle put down the book she had been holding and prepared to set the mayor straight. 'Other' Belle was hopping up and down, wearing boxing gloves and shouting ' _Fight! Fight! Fight!_ '. She would be just as happy if Belle were to thump Regina over the head with the hardcover.

"I appreciate your concern, Madam Mayor." Belle lied sweetly. "But you need not upset yourself on my account." The mayor opened her mouth to speak but Belle silenced her with a hard look. "I recall telling you, once upon a time, that my life and what I did was my own business, not yours. At the risk of repeating myself, that still applies. Butt out." Belle spun on her heel and marched to the circulation desk, not giving Regina a chance to retort.

" _Well done."_ congratulated 'other' Belle.

The remaining twenty minutes of her shift disappeared and at four thirty, Belle retreated to the lunch room to retrieve her jacket and head to Mr. Gold's house – home, she supposed. She wasn't certain when the change had happened; from his house where she was just a guest, or felt like one, into 'home' where she felt safe and even loved; but it had. Zipping up her jacket, Belle smiled to herself. Yes, she was going _home_.

"What are _you_ all smiley about?" Allison stood in the doorway of the lunch room, curiosity all over her face. Behind her lingered a petite shadow with substantial feet. "You remember Mary Margaret?" Allison gestured to the 'shadow'.

"Yes, of course." Belle waved to the teacher who shyly waved back.

"We're headed to a thrift shop to dig up costumes for the Halloween gala. You should come with." Her friend explained. Her tone of voice suggested to Belle that she might not have any actual choice in the matter.

"Oh, I really shouldn't – " Belle attempted. "I need to be getting home."

"Nonsense, Belle." Allison admonished. "How else are you going to find a costume?"

The three of them strode to the front doors and exited onto the granite steps. Belle squinted into the fading sunshine.

"I'm not going to the party, Allison. But you two have fun thrifting."

"But you _have_ to go!" Allison whined.

Belle glanced at Mary Margaret, hoping for some back up but Mary Margaret gave a small shrug and smiled apologetically.

"Bad things happen to me on Halloween. Call it a superstition."

"Come for the company then?" Allison persisted.

Belle chewed on her lip, conflicted. If she didn't get back to the house, Rumpelstiltskin was likely to go crazy with worry and he wasn't above locking her up; and supper, who would fix his supper? But he had insisted that she was _not_ his maid anymore and he didn't expect her to act like one. Perhaps an hour spent with girlfriends would be time well spent.

"This doesn't mean I'm going to the party." She warned. "But I'd be happy to help you find something foolish."

Unable to contain her glee, Allison grabbed both Belle and Mary Margaret by the arms and began skipping down the street, the other two stumbling to keep up.

* * *

It seemed to Belle that most of his house was never lit. She stumbled through the dark first floor, through an unused breakfast room and into the dimly lit kitchen. Was it to save on his electric bill, she wondered uselessly. Belle plunged into the semi-darkness of the hallway as she made her way to the study where warm yellow light spilled from the doorway and across the hardwood floor. Perhaps it was a good sign that Rumpelstiltskin was back here and not prowling the front windows, waiting for sight of her.

"Rumpelstiltskin?" she called softly, peeking around the door frame to find him in his reading chair, a book on his lap. "I'm home." Belle gave him a little wave.

"Where have you been?" he did not look up from the book, his voice was deceptively quiet.

"Allison and Miss Blanchard abducted me from work to go thrifting for Halloween costumes." Belle tried to keep her voice steady but sometimes she was just frightened of him.

Setting the book on the end table, he rose, crossing the room rather quickly for having the cane.

"You should have let me know, I've been worried."

Belle stared at his chest, studied his purple tie and afraid to meet his gaze.

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry." She murmured. He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her gently against him.

"I suppose you're going to tell me now that you wish to attend the ball too?

Belle suppressed a giggle, his turn of phrase reminding her of a fairy tale; how ironic.

"No." she shook her head, a stray tendril of hair falling into her eyes. "I do not wish to go."

His arms circled her waist and Belle found herself pressed more firmly against him.

"You don't?" astonishment obvious in his voice; he tucked the wayward piece of hair behind her ear, his touch sending a shiver down her spine.

"No." Belle told his tie. Slowly, she looked up, met his dark brown eyes that were brimming with curiosity. "The last time I went to one of those things, you threw me away."

Pain flickered across his features and she almost regretted her words; but they were the truth and Belle felt stupid to tempt fate again.

"That won't happen again." He whispered, kissing her forehead very softly.

"Don't make promises, Rumpelstiltskin." She whispered back, voice shaky as he planted soft kisses along her jaw and then her ear, giving it a gentle nip.

"Rum –" her voice caught in her throat but then he kissed her deeply, silencing her. Belle gave into him, clasping her hands around his neck for leverage while his hands were everywhere; in her hair, pulling out her braid, then down her back and roaming over her backside.

She dragged her fingers through his hair; caught his bottom lip between her teeth, biting softly. They clung to each other desperately, afraid to let go lest they drift apart. Rumpelstiltskin ground his hips into her and Belle moaned into his mouth, feeling his desire. He released her lips, kissing her neck, hard and almost sloppy but certainly desperate.

"Upstairs." He growled, his teeth grazing her ear. "Now."

He pulled away from her abruptly and Belle stumbled a little as she spun on her heel and hurried to the stairs, with Rumpelstiltskin close behind.


	7. Seven

She awoke long before dawn, momentarily disoriented and not recognizing her surroundings. Then it hit her and Belle could feel her face flooding with colour. Rumpelstiltskin's arm was draped over her bare waist and he was snoring lightly. In sleep, his features seemed relaxed, so peaceful; Belle tried to keep still, not wanting to wake him though she needed the bathroom badly; to stretch her legs and perhaps freshen up from being a little sore and a little sticky. Belle grinned up at the ceiling.

Rumpelstiltskin loved her! Or so he had told her before he drifted off to sleep. It was no great revelation, Belle had known that he had. It didn't prevent the 'other' Belle from crowing triumphantly anyway. She had not dreamed that he would really admit it out loud.

Unable to wait, she gently pushed his arm off and slipped out of bed, padding into the bathroom. The air was cold on her bare skin and Belle hurried through her business so she could rush back to the warm covers.

Creeping back to the bed, Belle paused, feeling suddenly shy in her nakedness with him in the room. It was very silly, she lectured herself, Rumpelstiltskin had fallen on her like a parched man might a glass of water and there was nothing that he had not seen or discovered earlier in the night. Perhaps she would go to her own room and not be a reminder of temporary madness. Belle hurriedly retrieved her skirt and blouse from the floor and was groping around for her nylons when his groggy voice saying her name startled her.

"Yes, love?" she asked, not rising from the floor, shivering in the chill air.

"Where are you going?"

"To start my day?"

"But it's four o'clock in the morning." Rumpelstiltskin sat up, his eyes roving over her hungrily. "Come back to bed." He reached out to her, beckoning. "Please?"

"Oh, very well." She pouted, a smile playing on her lips. Tossing the clothes into a nearby chair, Belle hopped back into the bed, immediately grateful for the warmth of the bed covers. Rumpelstiltskin gathered her to his chest, kissing her hair.

"Haven't you have enough, Rumpel?" Belle teased. He pushed her down into the pillows and then was on her, his face looming over hers.

"I have a lot of lost time to make up for." He said by way of explanation and then there was no more talking for quite some time.

* * *

The house was empty when Belle returned from work that evening, which suited her just fine. It had been a busy afternoon at the library; her last shift with Simon before he left her on her own. Lack of sleep from the night before had not helped her through the day and, she smirked while turning on the toaster oven, she was sore in places she hadn't known existed; not a bad reason for the exhaustion then.

Sheriff Swan had come in with Henry that day, the sheriff hovering around Belle while Henry scoured the literature section. Belle held nothing against Emma Swan but she didn't appreciate the suspicion that the sheriff constantly regarded her with. It might have been Emma's dislike of 'Mr. Gold' that Belle was earning through association, but Emma had not made any real effort to know her either; Belle resolved to brush it off. Sheriff Swan could dislike her when she started collecting rent, harassing nuns and being unpleasant to everyone like someone else they knew.

Sliding leftover lasagna into the warmed toaster oven, Belle flicked the timer and bounded upstairs for more comfortable clothing.

Once in her room though, she sighed heavily and threw herself onto the bed. Her father had come into the library before her shift ended and while a part of her heart leaped at the sight of him, Belle felt wary and distrustful; how could he even expect her to return home with him after he had betrayed her by giving her over to Regina's "care".

"How does he even remember what happened? Most everyone else doesn't." Belle grumbled, pulling a pillow over her face. Maury had seemed repentant but never confirmed for her if he _did_ know what he had done and why she was so upset.

" _How can you_ _ **live**_ _with that man after what he has done?" her father's voice was incredulous though it seemed more like an accusation than a question._

" _What do you mean? Mr. Gold had done nothing but look after me." Belle was confused, her anger still focused on Maury and his part in her trip to the hospital ward._

" _Naturally; he hasn't told you, and why would he?" he laughed, a harsh and bitter sound._

" _Hasn't told me_ _ **what**_ _?"_

Maury had seemed only too pleased to tell his daughter the tale of his abduction at gun point and an assault at the hands of Mr. Gold a few months ago. He was certain, he told Belle, that Gold had meant to kill him and would have if Sheriff Swan had not arrived in time to save him.

" _That's nonsense. Why would he do such a thing?"_

" _Nonsense? I defaulted on a loan."_

" _Is that all?" she raised an eyebrow, knowing Gold to be ruthless but that it seemed a little extreme for a simple loan default._

" _The monster thought I'd killed you, held me at fault for your death."_

" _And you aren't at fault? You_ _ **did**_ _send me away and pretended like I had died."_

Her father had left in a huff, angry that she had not believed him outright; Maury had expected to take his grateful and loving daughter home with him, rescuing her from that beast. He had not expected questions and her own accusations.

But the seeds of doubt had been planted and unease crept into her heart like a fog. She rolled out of bed and went to the dresser, shedding skirt, nylons and blouse across the floor as she went. That Rumpelstiltskin had not told her was not a surprise; why would he have a reason to? Belle pulled on a worn pair of jeans and a soft blue sweater. But he _should_ have told her and weeks ago, when he was slowly filling her in on the time that had elapsed since she had "died". As angry as she was with Maury right now, he _was_ still her father and what Rumpelstiltskin had done was inexcusable. Hearing the timer, Belle dashed downstairs to the kitchen and pulled the food from the oven to cool.

"If what he did was so inexcusable, then why do you continue to make excuses for him?" the 'other' Belle wondered as she went back upstairs to retrieve the dirty laundry.

Rumpelstiltskin's door was ajar and she slipped in quietly though there was no one home to disturb. His clothes are still scattered across the floor, hers piled in the chair where she had dropped them, the bed clothes still tangled. Belle smiled in spite of herself and snatched up his trousers, checking the pockets out of habit; she had already washed his wallet once.

Her fingers brushed a piece of paper and she pulled it out; a neatly folded scrap. Belle knew she should've tossed it on the night table and forgotten about it but unfolded it anyway; her heart sank like a stone. Characters scratched in raven black ink adorned the paper; she had seen these before at the dark castle, in a book of magical alphabets. She had no idea what this piece of paper might imply but her gut told her that it was not good. Rumpelstiltskin had often told her that this was a land without magic; these magical characters had no business being here.

Unless he was looking for a way to re-harness what he had lost.

Belle dropped the paper onto the bed like it was a hot potato and turned to retrieve the laundry. She paused, glancing over her shoulder at the piece of paper, chewing her bottom lip as she argued with the 'other' Belle over the wisdom of just leaving it there. Her more feisty side won out and Belle snatched it up, stuffing it into her pants pocket and then busied herself gathering up the rest of the clothes so she could escape back downstairs, through the kitchen and to the cozy laundry room in the back. She tossed the clothes into a hamper and leaned her back against the folding table. Maybe she was overreacting and the paper was something he'd found in an item brought into the shop. But the hand looked familiar, she was almost certain it belonged to him; how could she know just from that what he was up to?

"You can't." agreed the 'other' Belle. "But you also know what he's like."

If Rumpelstiltskin were somehow able to bring magic to this world or even return them all to their own land, would he still be cursed with the power of the Dark One? True love was anathema to his "limitless" power; he would never want that curse to break. If he couldn't give that power up for his son, no matter how much he regretted it now, then Belle knew she didn't stand a chance. She couldn't love him at arm's length; she thought she could once, maybe, but not now. It had to be all or nothing and she would not compromise with magic.

The sound of the front door closing and the familiar _thud_ of his cane drew Belle from her gloomy thoughts. She hurried into the kitchen to dish up supper as Rumpelstiltskin came into the room.

"Hello." She greeted softly, unable to keep from smiling. Belle grabbed two plates of lasagna and whisked them to the kitchen table. Rumpel eased himself into a chair, waiting for her to sit down. Belle's stomach was in knots, she was running on anxiety as she poured glasses of wine and grabbed the silverware. His eyes were on her while she placed everything on the table but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Finally, Belle dropped into her chair and sighed, relieved that her stomach had ceased doing somersaults.

"You could've started without me." She pointed out, taking a gulp of her wine.

"People consider me beastly, dearie, but I don't eat with my hands." He quipped, taking up his fork and beginning to eat.

Belle picked at her food while she debated with 'other' Belle in her head. Should she mention the paper? What purpose did it serve anyway, Rumpelstiltskin's shop was full of strange things; and her father, how did one bring up assault at the dinner table? 'Oh, hey, I heard you beat the piss out of my dad whom you blamed for my death. What's up with that anyway?' Not likely, she and 'other' Belle agreed.

"Is there something bothering you, Belle?" He pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair.

"Of course not." She answered too quickly, piercing the noodles with her fork. Rumpelstiltskin said nothing, waiting for her to spill. "My father came in to see me today." She sighed, setting her fork down. She looked up at him but his face was impassive. "Is it true, what he said you did to him?"

Belle followed Rumpelstiltskin's gaze which was fixed on the window, perhaps thinking his answer would be in the pattern of the lace curtains.

"Yes, it's true."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you _do_ that? Someone was bound to tell me."

"I didn't know how to tell you." He said simply. "I didn't want to upset you."

"How could you do something so despicable?" she whispered.

"I never pretended to be otherwise." He snapped. "Perhaps it was the wrong thing to do, but it happened and I can't change that."

"Is that how you treat everyone who owes you money?"

"Is that what he told you?" Rumpelstiltskin laughed, it was a joyless sound. "True, he owed me money, Belle. He also stole from me; something very precious to me. But I thought he had killed you."

Belle pushed out of her chair angrily and cleared away the plates, unable to think of what to say; she needed to get away from him but Rumpelstiltskin was right on her heels.

"What do you want from me, Belle, and apology? Because I'm not sorry."

She leaned against the counter, staring into the sink, furiously blinking back the tears. She _didn't_ know what she wanted from him; maybe more honesty and some transparency.

"Reassurance that he would never do the same to you?" the 'other' Belle offered.

"Are you afraid I could do that to you?" Rumpelstiltskin placed a hand on her shoulder. Overwhelmed, Belle could only nod. "I would never – "his voice cracked with emotion.

"I know." She turned around, placing her hands against his chest. "But never hurting me also includes not hurting those I care about."

Rumpelstiltskin wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his chest, burying his face in her hair. Belle sighed, uneasy with him for the first time in a long while.


	8. Eight

The days passed by in a blur and soon Halloween loomed large on the calendar, like a harvest moon hanging low in an autumn sky. Belle spent most of her time at the library, even when she was off the clock, the tension between her and Rumpelstiltskin had not quite subsided.

Tucked away in a plush chair next to the magazine stand, Belle could observe both the circulation desk and the front entrance, in case someone wished to take her by surprise. Maybe she was paranoid; living with "the Dark One" would do that to a person. She sighed inwardly, letting the book on her lap flutter shut. The only person she was truly uneasy to see _was_ Rumpelstiltskin.

Torn between her love for him and her unease with what he had done to her father, Belle found it easiest to avoid him as much as possible; and he had given her the space she craved by spending more time at his shop; Belle could see sadness in his eyes when they crossed paths in the house. What bothered her the most was _how_ conflicted she felt about it; the man had harmed her father and she should have left as soon as she found out. It was just that simple, right?

A few patrons milled around the shelves but it was mostly quiet in the library. The evening librarian sat behind the circulation desk, thumbing through a magazine and looking bored. Belle tossed the book onto a shelving cart and pried herself out the chair. She smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt carefully, smiling to herself; a knee length, white flowy number that she had "thrifted" from Allison's closet; it was too thin for the end of October but she couldn't help wanting to feel pretty now and again. She moved slowly around the library, stretching her legs, absently browsing the shelves, occasionally pulling a book out to read the dust covers.

Belle knew she should get home, that she should stop avoiding Rumpelstiltskin. She knew she wasn't going to leave and go live with her father or anyone else; it had never even been a consideration. For something she thought should be so black and white, it had too many shades of gray; and what about the magic thing? True, it was only a suspicion and Belle hadn't found anything else in the house to suggest any "magical intentions", but what if there _was_ something to it?

If she were being honest with herself, Belle would just admit that there was a part of her that longed to do to Maury Reading (or 'French', as he now styled himself) what Rumpelstiltskin had done. Maury had lied; claimed she was crazy and handed her over to the mayor and her thugs. Belle was a grown woman, how did he think he had the legal right to even do such a thing? But this was Storybrooke, Regina's town with Regina's rules and to hell with fair laws or free will.

Belle leaned on a shelf, her chin set on the cool metal; it was time to move on from this. She didn't approve and she couldn't condone it, but it had happened and there was no changing it. Grimacing at a copy of The Color Purple, Belle attempted to shove her hypocrisy into a closet.

A light hand settled on her shoulder and Belle jumped, knocking her head into the metal of the above shelf. She turned around, rubbing her skull and trying out her best 'I'm annoyed' face on Rumpelstiltskin.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed. Amusement mixed with mock concern danced across his face and he gently touched the 'injury'.

"I came to escort you home." he sounded innocent enough and he was still in the dark tailored suit he wore to the shop; Rumpelstiltskin always had liked to dress well. She smiled to herself as she took in the fall of fabric of his trousers, deep burgundy tie, the fit of the suit jacket - Belle shook her head in frustration; damn this distracting man!

"I thank you, sir," Belle began, pasting on a too-sweet smile. "but I _am_ capable of seeing myself home."

"Ah, but the time of ghosts and ghouls approaches; I shudder to think of what a fair maiden such as yourself may encounter, alone, in the dark." Rumpelstiltskin announced gallantly; they had the attention of the few patrons left and the evening librarian. Great, just what she wanted, an audience.

_"No 'fair maidens' here, Rumpel."_ the 'other' Belle piped up and Belle fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"I cannot think of anything more frightening than the imp called Rumpelstiltskin." Belle muttered. She offered him her hand which he then brought to his lips; edging in closer, he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Come, dearie - " he murmured, his breath hot on her ear. "no more of this hiding."

"I've had a lot to work through." Belle was vague, aware of the eyes still on them. She was positive they couldn't wait to get home and tell their friends that they had seen proof that Mr. Gold was getting cozy with the girl who lived with him.

"Please?" he kissed her cheek and she could hear the murmurs of the remaining patrons. Belle's mind was spinning as she struggled to maintain her composure. The part of her that wanted to jump him in front of the town was quickly catching up with the rest of her. The 'other' Belle shrugged noncommittally; some help she was.

"Very well." she sighed heavily, trying to make a bigger deal out of her indecision than it required.

"Excellent." Rumpelstiltskin beamed, mischief glinting in his eyes; she had only seen this smile when he struck deals that pleased him.

_"Most deals he made pleased him."_ her personal peanut gallery pointed out.

He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and escorted her through the room, waving to the townspeople, and out into the autumn night.

* * *

Belle awoke later that night tangled up in his bed sheets, her blouse wadded up as a pillow beneath her cheek. She stretched lazily and reached across the bed for Rumpelstiltskin, but his side was empty and cold. Bleary eyed, she sat up and scanned the darkened room for his figure, glancing at the open door of the en suite. Untangling herself from the sheets, Belle rolled over the edge and fell ungracefully to the floor with a soft thud. She climbed to her feet and slipped into the hallway and to her own bedroom to retrieve her robe. Belle stepped into her warm slippers and sighed with relief; did he not understand how to use his furnace? Even his bedroom was cold and she pointed this out to him earlier; Rumpelstiltskin grinned devilishly and told her that they would just have to make their own heat. She made her way downstairs and scuffed into the kitchen for a glass of water. She drained the first glass in a couple of gulps and then refilled it, taking it with her to the study.

She found him hunched over his desk, intensely studying a book in front of him. He seemed tired and he was wearing his clothes from earlier but looking more rumpled; the trousers wrinkled and his dress shirt hastily buttoned a little over half way. Belle draped her free arm around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head.

"Come back to bed, Rumpel." she said sweetly, nuzzling his hair. "It's late and I'm cold."

Rumpelstiltskin took the glass from her hand and set it on the desk, then pulled her onto his lap. He laid his head against her chest, his eyes straying back to the desk and the open atlas.

"I wish I knew where to look." he sounded mournful and a bit frustrated. Belle skimmed the map; the interstates, the cities, coloured boundary lines, it made no sense to her. She had not been outside of Storybrooke and if he had somehow left the town before, he had never said. If he had _been_ able to leave before, Belle figured he would not have come back until he found his son.

"How can you leave though, even if you knew where to look?" she wondered aloud, stroking his hair in hopes that it would soothe him.

"I can't." he croaked. "The curse needs to break; I need magic."

Belle grew still, her hand dropping to his shoulder. Magic! Of course he needed magic and why should she be surprised? She'd had her suspicions since finding the scrap paper in his laundry; finding a few well-loved esoteric-looking books in the study had only reinforced them.

"You've told me many times that this is a land without magic." Belle said calmly, choosing a neutral answer.

"And it still is." Rumpelstiltskin raised his head and moved to grab something from the desk. Belle slid from his lap, retrieving her water; she sipped slowly, eying him warily. "Any magic in this realm is _very_ unpredictable."

"But you don't _have_ any magic." Belle clutched the empty glass tightly, her knuckles turning white.

"No." he breathed, his eyes shone as if with fever. "Not yet; but I'm going to bring it here, Belle. I _will_ bring magic here."

Belle took his face in her hands and gazed down, her heart ached with unbearable sadness; magic still had such a strong hold over him. Could he ever be simply a man again?

"If Baelfire wanted to bring you to this place with him, to live without your curse – bringing magic here might not be a wise idea, don't you think?"

Rumpelstiltskin pushed himself out of the chair and paced the floor, running his hand through his hair frantically. If this was what just the thought of magic did to him, what on earth would he be like with his powers restored?

"Don't you want me to find my son?" Rumpelstiltskin stopped abruptly just inches away from her.

"Of course I do! I never said that I didn't – I only question your desired tool." Belle took his hand and squeezed it gently. "Remember what magic did to you before –"

"It made me _powerful_ , feared."

"And it did a good job in destroying you; all magic has a price, dearie." she reminded him. "You _are_ powerful here and believe me, you _are_ feared; and all without magic, right?" agitated, Belle grabbed him by both wrists. "Please, Rumpelstiltskin. No more magic."

Belle watched the fire and zeal go out of his eyes, leaving the calm, collected man she was accustomed to; while she hoped that he had taken her words to heart, she knew deep down that they had fallen on deaf ears. Logic and reason, a neutral way to approach him, could be ignored. Perhaps she should have just told him the truth; that she was afraid of the curse and of him becoming the Dark One again. She could not bear to live the life of keeping their love at arm's length and he was still so addicted to even the memory of that power, Belle knew what he would choose. Belle felt as though she'd rather die than have to deal with it again.

"We can talk more about this later." he turned her hands over and kissed each of her palms gently. "You ought to sleep."

"I'm not going anywhere without you." She pouted. To her surprise, he switched off the lights and took her by the hand, leading her back upstairs and to the comfort of his arms.


	9. Nine

Late afternoon sun streamed through the study windows, the dust motes dancing in the light that spilled over the large books of maps that were strewn around Belle. She hunched over the maps, frowning and feeling confused; she had no concept of distances and the size of the world but everything looked so far and there were _so many places_. Where did one even begin to look for a lost son?

Her hope had been to _help_ Rumpelstiltskin, who had been pouring over maps for the last few days; she had found him lazily spinning a globe in his shop the other afternoon, a faraway look in his eye, and her attempt to smooth over their argument (a slice of cherry pie from Granny's) about magic had gone mostly unnoticed.

Belle was still of the belief that finding Baelfire could be done without magic; if magic was as unpredictable here as Rumpelstiltskin claimed it was, then why risk bringing it here? It lacked logic and seemed to her like striking a match near something that _could_ be flammable just for some more light. He had been dependent on magic, practically _made_ of magic, for so long that he couldn't fathom any other option and Belle had been determined to show him the path without it. But after two days of looking at atlases at the library and sifting through his handwritten notes at home, she was beginning to think that Rumpelstiltskin was right. She was no magician, certainly, but untrained and "fresh" eyes could sometimes be useful; Belle had found nothing.

She sat back on her heels, still eyeballing the map of the eastern coast of Canada; even if Baelfire was not there, it seemed like an interesting place to visit. If the curse broke, would they be sent back or would they remain here but free to leave? Belle thought she might like to travel to some of these places someday or even go to university.

The loud thud of his cane interrupted Belle's daydream of lectures and hours of research in a library; she had wanted to keep this a secret from him until she could make a good argument against the use of magic.

"Too late now." the 'other' Belle shrugged.

"What _are_ you doing?" Rumpelstiltskin paused in the doorway briefly, taking in the mess and Belle, her hair wild and clothes rumpled, in the middle of it. He looked tired, she noticed as he walked heavily over to his chair and eased himself into it.

"I'm trying to help." she mumbled to the map of the world. "I wish I knew how." Belle twisted around in her spot, looking up at Rumpelstiltskin like a child waiting for a story.

"You don't need to help me, Belle." he said, softly stroking her hair.

"I know, but I like to help the people I love."

"You love me?" doubt filled his eyes; he seemed so very vulnerable.

"Yes, how could you even doubt it now?" she climbed to her feet and sat on the arm of his chair; he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. Belle pressed her forehead to his, relishing the calm that washed over her. "I love you," she murmured as she kissed his jaw, stopping just below his ear. "Forever."

"Belle." he warned; his breath hitched in his throat. She shifted, awkwardly, until she straddled his lap.

"What's the problem?" Belle pouted, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Not here, not now." he reasoned though his resolve seemed to weaken with Belle messing with his tie. She leaned in, capturing his lips with hers; Rumpelstiltskin groaned and pushed her gently away.

"You've made your point, dearie."

"Have I?" she wondered, caressing his rough cheek. Belle climbed to her feet, freeing him from her advances. The maps were still open on the floor, the countries and colours blurring into a technicolor mess.

"How would you even know where to start?" she sighed, closing the books with her stocking feet. Rumpelstiltskin limped to his desk and began searching through the drawers.

"As I've said before; with magic."

"Right; with magic." Belle dropped gracelessly into his reading chair; she was still not entirely convinced that it was the only way. Were they looking for a boy or were they looking for a man? Rumpelstiltskin had alluded to centuries that had passed since he lost his son; Belle wondered if time passed the same way in this land as it had in theirs. Could it be possible that Baelfire was already dead?

"I know; you're not convinced." his voice was muffled, coming from behind the desk as he continued his search for whatever it was.

"Will your curse come back when the magic does? Would it be in effect here?" Belle asked absently, watching the dust motes twirl and spin through the sunlight.

"I suppose it could. I almost hope that it does."

"I know that would make finding your son easier; at least I hope that it would. But once you found him, he would see that you had not changed. Your powers drove him away in the first place."

Rumpelstiltskin sat up in the chair, a scowl on his face and a hard look in his eyes.

"Are you going to take me with you when you search for him?"

"Why would I do that?" his voice low; his mood seemed dangerous and Belle knew she should stop antagonizing him but she felt compelled to continue.

"You would need _some_ one to kiss you once you found him; True Love's kiss to break the curse?" she challenged him, sitting straighter in the chair. He didn't respond, merely regarding her with an unfathomable expression.

"I feel the same way about you, dearie, with or without magic. Why should breaking my curse matter to you?"

"Because I would rather die than have to love you at a distance again." she spat. "Your magic, your curse, drove your son away; drove me away. 'All magic comes with a price!'" Belle quoted, her voice a higher imitation of his. "You've _paid_ that price and you're still willing to pay it for empty parlor tricks and comfortless riches?"

"I don't have time for this." he growled, grabbing his cane and heading for the door.

"You don't _get it_ , do you?" Belle shouted. "You drove your son away even though you just wanted to protect him; was his love for the father he used to know not enough for you? And me, how could I _ever_ love a horrid beast like you."

Both the 'other' Belle and Rumpelstiltskin blinked in confusion.

"Your son was _mortal_ , Rumpelstiltskin." her voice like ice. "Perhaps you will never find him because he is already _dead_."

"Enough!" he roared, smashing a glass shelf with the top of his cane; Belle cowered behind his chair. "That's enough - " his voice softer. "Clean this up will you?" and then he was gone.

The front door slammed and Belle exhaled, not realizing she had been holding her breath. She slumped back into the chair, blinking back threatening tears. She wasn't even sure why she had goaded him like that; certainly he was prone to temper. What had been the point?

"That you wanted him to acknowledge the price he had paid and the price he will potentially pay (again) for his magic?" the 'other' Belle seemed more subdued too, her usual bravado and know-it-allness having shattered like the glass shelf. Out of habit, Belle retrieved the broom and dust pan from the hallway closet and slowly began to sweep up the shards, the dust pan trembling in her shaking hand. After a few unsuccessful attempts at sweeping the glass into the pan, Belle threw it and the broom to the floor.

"To hell with this." she muttered, she had to get out of there. Belle grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch and pulling it on, dashed out the door.

* * *

Belle was coming around the corner near Granny's when the curse broke; with a gust of wind, the fog that surrounded most of her memories was gone. Up ahead of her, Ruby and her grandmother paused to look at each other, their faces lit up with joy and recognition.

She approached the two women, uncertain of her welcome now.

"Belle!" Ruby cried as she crushed Belle to her chest in a huge hug; Belle squeaked and Ruby released her, looking apologetic. "Sorry, I seem to have forgotten my own strength."

Belle laughed nervously, unsure of what Ruby had meant. Then it was Granny's turn to hug Belle, which the older woman managed to do without bruising any ribs. Belle had not known either of them in Fairy Tale Land but she wished that she had.

"Where were you off to, Belle?" Granny asked. "Where is 'Mr. Gold' ?"

Trying to seem casual about it, Belle shrugged; she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay. The sight of a large, red faced man in grass stained overalls lumbering toward them distracted her; such odd clothing for her to see her lordly Papa in, even when he had run their bookshop he had tried to keep up appearances. The look on his face when he spotted her was the polar opposite of the angry one of just a few days ago; in spite of herself, Belle broke into a run and collided into his arms.

"Beauty!" he cried, laughing and swinging her around, just as he used to in her long ago childhood.

"Papa! Oh! I have missed you!" she kissed his cheek and he set her down gently, his arms still wrapped around her, never wanting to let his little girl go. The cries of happy reunions were all around them; Belle and her father joined Ruby and Granny in time to witness Snow White fly into the arms of her Prince Charming for the most passionate kiss ever seen on the streets of Storybrooke _or_ in the kingdoms of Fairy Tale Land. Belle's heart ached; who knew where her true love had gone?

People began to wander into the streets, greeting friends and re-aquainting themselves with one another. Her father, his arm slung around her shoulder, was deeply engrossed in a conversation about werewolves with Granny. Belle slipped away from him and wandered along the sidewalk, looking for Rumpelstiltskin, she needed to apologize; perhaps he was in his shop.

It was quieter near the pawn shop, the townsfolk having congregated nearer to the diner and the center of town. The sun was warm and the breeze was gentle and Belle could even hear a few birds singing at the edge of the forest, the next block over; very unlike the autumn weather they should have been having. Did breaking the dark curse change their weather too?

Footsteps on the pavement echoed loudly in Belle's ears and she ran to catch up to the noise, her curiosity getting the best of her. She reached the edge of town in time to see Regina disappear into the forest, moving with purpose; Belle hurried after her, trying to keep her distance so Regina would not detect her.

Deeper and deeper into the forest Regina went with Belle still not far behind. Shrubs and twigs caught at her sweater and slapped at her bare legs and face, leaving little stinging cuts, but Regina was moving uphill now and Belle didn't have time to stop and examine her injuries. A cluster of tall trees lay up ahead and she thought she could see an old stone well in the middle of them. Rumpelstiltskin was there, his back to both of them, his posture seemed tense with anticipation as a wind surged upward from the well and a deep, purple cloud crept over the stone walls.

Belle's heart sank; was that magic?

Regina had moved among the trees, closer to Rumpelstiltskin; he was either unaware of her presence or not threatened by it. Belle tip toed after her, hiding behind the thick trunk of one of the trees and then peeked around. The mayor looked frightful; her hair no longer perfectly in place and her makeup was running, either from tears or melting from the exertion. Belle guessed that Regina would not take it well, the breaking of the dark curse, but what else had happened? She had been so caught up in maps and notes that the town gossip had gone unnoticed.

From her hiding place, Belle could see Rumpelstiltskin's face in profile; he looked exhilarated and triumphant. The magic cloud continued to roll from the well and across the forest floor, covering her up to her knees. This was his choice; Belle couldn't say she was surprised.

Out of the corner of her eye, Belle could see a pistol in Regina's shaking hands. She aimed right at Rumpelstiltskin and despite the tremors, Belle suspected that she wouldn't miss. Regina's finger slid to the trigger and without thinking, Belle stumbled from her hiding place.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" she cried, desperate to knock into the other woman and throw her off her target. What happened next, Belle couldn't be sure; Regina whirled around to face her as she pulled the trigger. White hot pain seared from her chest and Belle dropped to the ground, seeing only Regina's shoes retreating down the hill and away from the scene. She was only dimly aware of Rumpelstiltskin's panic as he gathered her up, quickly assessing her wound; all Belle wanted was unconsciousness and, in spite of his pleas to stay with him, she finally slipped into blackness.


	10. Epilogue

The world was colourless and fuzzy and the hum and beep of machines greeted her. Gray shapes moved around at the edge of her vision, growing clearer by the second.

"Hey, there you are." a female voice said. A narrow, lead white face came into her vision, the painted ruby lips still moving; Belle blinked in confusion.

"Wha -" Belle tried to speak but her tongue felt thick and her mouth parched.

"Hang on," the painted lady told her. Belle turned her head to get a better look at the woman; bright red ball gown trimmed with sequined hearts and a high ruffed collar. Was this the Queen of Hearts? She came back over holding a Styrofoam cup and smiled. "Ice chips?"

"Allison?"Belle croaked; she let the "queen" slip some ice between her lips. "What's with the dress?" she asked.

"Halloween." Allison said simply, tilting her head to give Belle a better look at the black wig.

Belle raised her head a little, taking in the small hospital room; orange jack-o-lanterns made from construction paper grinned at her from the wall closest to her and the window ledge was filled with vases of flowers. What was she doing here? She lay back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling; she and Rumpelstiltskin had argued and then the curse had broken and Belle followed Regina into the forest. Had she really been so stupid as to jump an armed person? Glancing down, the gauze bandages and the I.V. stuck in her hand told her 'yes'.

"Way to go, hero." the 'other Belle snarked, giving her a woozy thumbs up.

"If the curse is broken, why aren't you dressed like Alice?" Belle wondered; of all the questions she could have asked, she chose the most useless one of all.

"I paid for three days on the gown so I wanted to get my money's worth. And the party isn't canceled; the caterers wouldn't refund the money so the show goes on." Allison sank into a hard plastic chair next to the bed; she patted Belle's fingers. "Do you remember anything that happened? Rumpelstiltskin isn't saying much."

Belle licked her lips, trying to moisten them; Allison supplied her with another ice chip and waited patiently.

"I - I followed Regina into the forest; I had gone off to find Rumpelstiltskin but my curiosity got the best of me. Why _did_ she follow him into the forest?" she squirmed uncomfortably. "Is there any way to raise this bed?"

"Sure." Allison hit a button on the side rail and raised the top half of the mattress slowly until Belle was in a reclining position. "And - I'm not sure. There was a whole big mess involving Emma Swan and Regina losing her son."

"Huh, revenge then. I guess that makes sense. Anyway -" she yawned and her head lolled to the side. "he was in the forest; I don't know how she knew that. She was going to shoot him and stupid me shouted and jumped before she could."

Allison sighed and rolled her eyes, a creepy sight with the white grease paint.

"She hit your shoulder, so have fun with that recovery. Honestly, Belle, where is your sense of self-preservation?"

"Where is my father?" she tried to change the subject. She did not need to be admonished right now.

"The nurses made him go home to rest. He's been here since you were brought in yesterday, except for the time he spent choosing flowers for your room." her friend gestured to the flower laden window. " _He's_ here, you know; Rumpelstiltskin. I think he was down the hall with the dubious coffee earlier. Your father tried to refuse him entry, but - " Allison shrugged. "I can tell him you don't want to see him, if you wish."

"No, that's fine." Belle's stomach did a flip flop at the thought of seeing him. "You should get to your party."

"I was waiting for you, you lazy bum. Come on, get up." she teased Belle.

"But I don't even have a costume." Belle weakly protested.

"We'll say you're going for a modern day Sleeping Beauty look. You'll be a hit; you could even win the costume contest." Allison winked. Belle tried to laugh but winced with pain instead. "I'll come by tomorrow and give you all the gossip, promise." she stood to go; on a whim Allison bent over the railing and gave her a light kiss on the forehead.

"See you later." Belle smiled as Allison swept regally from the room, leaving her alone with the beeping machines. Through the small window Belle could see the fading afternoon light; the flowers cast long shadows on the floor. She wished the flowers were closer to the bed so that she could see them better and perhaps smell them.

A familiar figure stood nervously in the doorway, unsure of whether to enter or not. Belle reached for him, every fiber of her being sang at the sight of him. Rumpelstiltskin walked unaided by the cane, as smooth and as gracefully as he used to; it must have been the magic.

Standing beside her bed now, he presented her with a single red rose, which she accepted with a weak smile.

"Why thank you." Belle nodded her head slightly in lieu of a curtsey. Rumpelstiltskin lowered the railing and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Belle, why -" he held her hand carefully.

"No - no whys, please." she whispered; she was tired and explaining to him the whys and wherefores sounded like a dreadfully exhausting thing to do.

"I thought you were against magic." Rumpelstiltskin's voice wavered a little. "Why stop her?"

"I am - I was. But if it's the only way to find Baelfire." Belle trailed off, tears gathered on her eyelashes. "You chose your power, over me, in order to find your son; I have to accept that."

"I didn't choose anything over you." he blinked in confusion. "I haven't told you to go, have I?"

Belle tugged on his sleeve and he leaned in, their noses touching; she moved to kiss him but he turned his head at the last second, her lips brushing his cheek instead.

"This is what I meant, Rumpel." she sighed, unable to hide her disappointment. He brushed her cheek with his thumb.

"But it doesn't change how I feel; can't we love one another without 'true love's kiss' for a while?"

She sank back into the pillows once more; he seemed earnest and sincere and perhaps he had a point.

"I could also be locked in a bakery filled with my favourite desserts and be trusted not to eat anything." she joked.

"Good to see your sense of humor hasn't suffered." he remarked wryly, nuzzling her cheek. "I promised you that I would not 'throw you away' again." Rumpelstiltskin laid in the narrow space next to Belle, careful of any tubes and wires.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Rumpelstiltskin." Belle warned him; he draped his arm over her abdomen, holding her gently. Her eyes grew heavy and the last thing she heard as she drifted off was a whispered 'I love you'.

Belle fell asleep smiling.

 

**END**


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